


3:26 am

by impossibleredhead



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: 3 am phone calls never end well, AU, F/M, Stalking, he basically becomes a whole different person, i'll never get over how cute wolfgang gets around kala, these cuties, well almost never, what are we tagging aus where they're normal people?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4270002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossibleredhead/pseuds/impossibleredhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on an au in <a href="http://highermagic.tumblr.com/post/118659917304">this</a> post.<br/>Wolfgang gets a wrong number call that might change his entire life.</p>
<p>Unbeta'd</p>
            </blockquote>





	3:26 am

It's the middle of the fucking night when Wolfgang's phone rings. 3:26, to be exact, according to his clock. He'd been sleeping the way he enjoys best - without dreams - so he sort of lays there for a moment, abstractly hoping that the phone will just stop ringing and he can go back to bed. The phone doesn't comply, so he grunts and lifts himself up to grab it off the floor, giving it a cursory glance. He swipes angrily to accept the call.

"Yeah, what-" he barely gets out before a woman on the other end cuts off the spiteful curse he was about to lay out. Pulling the phone away from his ear, he can see now that the number he'd thought was Steiner's is actually not listed in his phone. He pulls it back to his ear.

"-and I am so sorry for waking you. I meant to call Daya, but I think I hit the wrong numbers," the woman's accented voice is saying. She sounds like she's been running, which can only mean bad things in Berlin at night. Most of the clubs are just getting out though, so maybe he's just being paranoid. The woman's still mumbling, too jumbled for him to make any sense of.

"Look, lady, if you lost your friend in a crowd, it's probably best for you to just wait where she can see you," he said, sighing and propping himself up more effectively on his forearm.

"What? No no no, I did not 'lose' Daya. She left hours ago. I just finished the project for tomorrow, though. I was on my way home from work when I noticed him," she says, and something about her voice pings every danger center in his brain, red flags waving all over. He sits up fully, the sheet slipping to his bare waist.

"Who?" he questions, because the woman doesn't sound like she's going to expand on that statement.

"The man," her voice is trembling, like she's running even though the number has to be a phone booth. She still somehow manages to sound exasperated, so he figures she must have already mentioned this.

"He started following me two blocks from work. I didn't think it was suspicious at first because there were a few small groups where he was, but he kept making the same turns as me. I sped up, but then he did too, which is when I ran into this telephone booth. And I don't have anymore German money on me to make another call." The woman sounded like she was about to start panicking. Sighing, Wolfgang threw back the sheet and tugged on his briefs before hopping into yesterday's jeans.

"Look, don't worry, it's fine. Where are you? Maybe I can come out and meet you, take you to your friend's place." The woman rattled off the printed cross-streets from the booth for him as he tugged a henley on and layered it with a heavy jacket in case the temperature had dropped greatly. She was only maybe a ten-minute walk from him, he wouldn't even need the car. The woman's breath was unsteady again by the time he walked out the door.

"What about the guy? Did you see where he went?" he questioned as he thundered down the narrow stairs to the street-access door. The air outside nipped at him, and he hunkered down into the collar of his jacket.

"Of course I did, he's standing by the corner. He stopped there when I locked the door, but I don't think he knows I can still see him - I think he thinks he's in the shadows." Her voice was slightly more secure than it had been a minute ago, which was the only reason he didn't yell. Instead, he kept talking to her, since that seemed to calm her down.

"Alright. Don't look at him, okay? Act like you don't know he's there, you're just talking to a friend, alright? Let him think he's safe, at least until I get there," he instructed calmly. She didn't need him panicking her right now - those phone booths were solid glass; it wouldn't be too hard for the guy to break it if he felt he had to. Wolfgang set a bit quicker of a pace.

When he got there, though, he couldn't have asked for a better setup. The route he took brought him up right behind the guy, who was indeed standing on the corner, eyes trained around the curb at something Wolfgang couldn't see, but would bet was the girl still on the other end of the phone. She was lucky it'd only been a five-minute walk from his apartment, or the call probably would have gotten cut off. He should have told her to just pretend if that had happened, but that was an unnecessary thought now, with him stepping quietly up behind the guy.

He slipped the phone in his jacket pocket, careful not to drop the call, before grabbing the guy's arm to spin him and throw him against the wall of the building as hard as possible. The guy's head made a satisfying smacking sound and he stumbled before falling to a knee and cradling his head in his hands. He didn't bother to look up, which Wolfgang figured was for the best. It was possible, in this part of town, that the guy could work for Steiner, and he didn't need another reason to get pissed off whenever he saw his own cousin. Family was enough.

"Don't follow women home late at night and we won't have problems like this," he said, digging the phone back out of his pocket. It wasn't even halfway to his ear before he could hear the girl's rapid-fire speech, but when he got it to his ear, she was clearly speaking another language, panicked again. Maybe he should've warned her that he was here, but there hadn't exactly been time.

"Hey, hey hey!" He cut into her speech. He stepped around the corner to see a gorgeous woman with golden-brown skin and dark, wild curls standing in the sickly green fluorescent lighting of the phone booth. He raised a hand in a pacifying manner. "Relax, it's just me, okay?"

He could see her sag against the glass from where he stood, the phone slipping from her hand and clattering against the glass wall opposite her. She sank to the floor, looking like all the strings holding her up had been cut at exactly the same moment. He ended the call and slowly made his way over to the booth.

He let her sit there for a moment, shaking minutely, before lightly tapping on the glass. Her face was pressed against her knees and she made no signs of acknowledging him. "Hey, you gotta unlock the door, alright?" He was all for helping her out here, but it was cold and she was going to freeze. She didn't even have a jacket, was only wearing a light sweater and pants. That was just stupid in Berlin at this time of year, and that was disregarding the entire thought process that led her to think walking alone at 3 in the morning was a good idea. She twitched, but took a few seconds to fumble the lock with long, shaking fingers. Finally, it snapped back.

He pried the door open slowly, since she was clearly still on edge, and offered his hand down to her. The girl only stared blankly at it for a moment, looking too vaguely-haunted for his tastes, before slipping her own clammy hand into it. He pulled her up and guided her out of the phone booth and onto the sidewalk. The light inside flicked down to energy-saving mode once it was no longer occupied, and he stood there with her while she got herself under control a little.

It took a minute, but soon she was noticeably shivering because of the cold instead of adrenaline, rubbing her arms with her hands. The light sweater was under no circumstances enough on a cold night in Berlin. Rolling his eyes a little, he shrugged out of his jacket and offered it to her, slipping his phone into his back pocket. She smiled and mumbled a thank you, slipping into the oversized clothing and curling her shoulders for maximum protection against the chill.

"Well, lead the way to your friend's place. Even for two people walking together, it's not a good idea to be out at night, here," he said. There was a heavy undertone of 'what-the-fuck-were-you-thinking' in there, but he didn't think he needed to put voice to it, based on the defiant look she was giving him. It was cuter than it was reprimanding, mostly because he could just tell she was the sort of person who followed the rules.

"I didn't have a choice. The whole reason we came to Germany was for this project. We have to submit it tomorrow or all of our work will have been for nothing. Besides, I don't know anyone else here yet. I didn't think it was necessary to socialize until after we knew we'd be staying," she defended, turning in the opposite direction from where he'd left the guy that had been following her.

"Why didn't you have a phone on you?" He asked instead of addressing the fact that she thought two girls being totally alone in a country was a good idea. He doesn't even know this girl, he's not her keeper. But, he also didn't know anyone who didn't have a cell phone. If he hadn't been half-asleep and thought it had looked like Steiner's number, he might not have answered the call. She cast a look around, but before he could ask if she was lost, she let out a noise and ducked toward the building. Bending over, she came back up with an iPhone in a plastic case that had clearly seen better days. The screen lit up for her though, which was surprising, but good.

"I lost it when I was trying to close the door. Daya is my first speed dial, but when I lost the phone, I was lucky to find enough cent-pieces for the booth in my pockets. I have notes, but it only took cents," she said as she scrolled through a log of notifications. Apparently there was nothing to find, because she sighed lightly before slipping the phone into the small purse strapped across her torso.

"Our apartment is this way," she nodded forward, waiting for him to move and falling into step beside him. They covered a block in silence, listening to the sounds of people leaving clubs and heading home on the streets around them.

"I should thank you. I am not sure why you answered the phone at such a late hour, but I am very thankful that you did," she said eventually, sending a somehow blinding-and-bashful smile his way. Her hands were crossed over her body to hold her sides, and for some reason the whole thing reminded him of Mallorie from the 9th grade, his first real girlfriend. They'd been doomed from the start - she got all top grades and went to church every Sunday, he'd skipped class regularly and hadn't been to church since before his father died. It was a quick romance; they kissed only twice and had burned out by the end of the month.

Despite her beauty, he could tell this girl was just the same. Too sweet and innocent - he always looked for what he didn't deserve in women. What would she do if she found out about his and Felix's little side business? Certainly, she'd never smile at him like this again.

"There has to be some way I can repay you. You did not have to come out and help me at this hour," she said, pulling him from his thoughts. He smiled; too innocent or no, there was no way he was going to pass up an opportunity when it was handed to him. He held out his hand.

"Give me your phone." She stared at him. He waggled his fingers in the universal 'fork it over' motion, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Her brow creased slightly, but she dug her phone back out, unlocking it before handing it over to him reluctantly. He navigated quickly to her contacts and added himself before handing the phone back over to her. He tried not to puff up too much when she smiled again, down at the phone this time.

"Thank you, Wolfgang," she tucked the phone back into her purse. His name sounded different in her accent. He wanted to ask where she was from, but didn't want to be rude.

"What am I supposed to use it for, though?" She questioned, distracting him. There was virtually no way to coolly say 'oh just text me sometime, you're gorgeous,' so instead he said; "Text me if you ever have to walk home after dark. From what I understand, your friend is also a girl; that wouldn't be much better. Safety in numbers, or text me. I live just a couple blocks away, but I have a car if you're further away."

She was staring, but it wasn't necessarily in a bad way. By the way she started smiling, it definitely wasn't in a bad way. "Thank you," she said as they turned a corner. Up ahead, a shorter woman with the same dark skin as her was standing by the open door to a flat, huddled in her pajamas and searching the street. Her head turned towards them and the girl beside him cringed slightly as she came running toward them.

"Kala! What were you thinking, I've been worried sick! You said you were leaving forty-five minutes ago!" Daya, he assumed, exclaimed, gathering the girl - Kala, apparently - up in a tight hug. Kala hugged her tightly back, and Wolfgang could see a sort of resemblance there. Not just friends, then; maybe cousins? They didn't look quite similar enough to be sisters, but he supposed it was possible. Daya pulled back to hold Kala by the arms, checking her over, before turning her gaze onto Wolfgang.

"Daya, this is Wolfgang. I was stuck in a phone booth and I tried to call you but I accidentally dialed him instead. He came out to walk me home," Kala explained as Daya sized him up. He smiled slightly, trying to look non-threatening. He mightn't have bothered, because Daya's eyes snapped right back to Kala.

"Why were you using a phone booth? What's wrong with your phone? Nevermind, we should get inside; it's gone 3 in the morning, Kala, we should be in bed. We have to give that presentation first thing in the morning, you know this," Daya said, not leaving room for response. She gave a brief tilting of lips that could charitably be described as a smile to Wolfgang as she started dragging Kala back toward the still-open door of their apartment. Kala smiled back at him over her shoulder.

"Thank you again, Wolfgang. I will let you know if I ever need someone to walk me home again! Goodnight!" He could hear Daya say something about calling dad, and then the door was closed behind them.

Wolfgang stood on that corner for a full minute, absorbing the last half hour, before turning around to head home. The only thought that passed through his mind on the way was that thankfully, he'd put both his keys and his phone in his pants pockets.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written and finished a fanfic since HP and the Deathly Hallows came out, please forgive me. I'm stunned I got this far, but let me know if it's jerky or seems way out of character.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Come worship sense8, other shows, stupid jokes, text posts and stuff with me at my [tumblr](http://impossible-redhead.tumblr.com/).


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